The morning is foggy, and I'm up early. Don is busy with chores, and I load my camera and tripod in the car, leave Barley with Don, and set out. I follow the fog through town, where no one stirs, and only a few monotone buildings and trees are visible.
West of town, I turn north and drive up a hill, where I park and wait for the light. The hills are still shadowed and an ocean of fog fills the valley. Birds and cicadas are awake, and together, their song seems to wake up the landscape. First light reveals the road I traveled to get here, winding through the valley, a freshly mowed field, and treetops rising from the mist. Time passes quickly as I click away on my Nikon, and soon the sun rises over my left shoulder and illuminates the valley.
It's such a beautiful spot to spend alone with God; I can imagine staying to watch the play of light as the sun rises in the sky, but breakfast with Don is waiting, and a walk with Barley, and there's a boat to clean and berries to water, for starters. I'd better get on with the day.
I'm pretty sure it will be better for having been here.
